


Consecuted

by yfere



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Consecuted Fjord, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Level 20, M/M, Set in a theoretical post-campaign, how do you even get a beta anyway, someday I'll write something not painfully G, spoilers for C2E57 kind of, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:16:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yfere/pseuds/yfere
Summary: In the aftermath of everything, Caleb and Fjord stay in their home by the water--for the moment.





	Consecuted

**Author's Note:**

> I got a little carried away with the consecuted business.

He was in the library reading, but Fjord had been given a standing invitation to interrupt. They might never speak some days, if he hadn’t.

“Caleb…” he waited for Caleb to look up, marking and setting his book aside in one smooth motion. And, that was nice. It was nice that he always did that. “Won’t you at least consider it?”

“I don’t know what makes you think I haven’t.”

“Okay. Consider it some more?”

“I have.”

“Then,” Fjord approached, and caught Caleb’s hand in his. “Let me try to convince you. Please.”

“Fjord.” Caleb’s eyes closed briefly. He seemed to be searching for words. “I am not the only one who decided this. Beauregard and Jester didn’t. Nott and Yeza didn’t. Yasha and Caduceus didn’t. You are the only one who did—and you haven’t asked any of them to change their minds.”

“No, and you know why that is.”

“Do my reasons matter less than theirs?”

“No, but—Caleb, I don’t know what your reasons _are._ You never said anything! It hadn’t occurred to me at the time that you wouldn’t—and if I had known, maybe I wouldn’t have done it, okay?”

Caleb frowned, and patted his wrist. “I don’t like hearing that. This was something you wanted. You can learn everything you want to learn now. You have the time.”

“Yeah, I do. And isn’t that something _you_ want?” Fjord made a sweeping motion at the library, the books upon books stacked on their shelves, the reams of paper filled with Caleb’s handwriting. “I’ve never known you to be satisfied with anything. Are you really all right with letting go of so much? With everything you know and do being, a blip, compared to everything they know and can do?”

“If you wish, you can carry on my work when I die. You’re already an intrinsic part of it.”

Fjord’s heart sank. “No. You know I couldn’t. And you know—they would let you change your mind. They wanted you to say yes—wanted you more than me, I think.”

“I know that isn’t true.”

“I know it _is_. Mostly what I’m good for—if it’s the politics, you don’t have to get involved. I’m better at that sort of thing, I could handle it for both of us, don’t you know that?”

“Fjord.” Caleb kissed his hand, a faint brush of dry lips. “Let’s take a walk.”

It was a balmy day outside, the ocean ebbing away from high tide. It left thick ridges in the sand as it eased away, feathery scalpeled lines where it had dragged pebbles and fragments of shell through. Like scars, like runes. Caleb led him out onto one of the stone jetties, the one Fjord liked to go to when he needed to think deeply about something. He hadn’t realized Caleb noticed that. He had always been alone when he did it before.

Caleb took off his boots, scooted to the edge of one of the lower-placed stones and dipped his feet in the water. He leaned against Fjord’s side when he joined him. “Do you feel better?”

“I don’t know…a little.” It was only being here, really, that made him realize how close he had been to boiling over. Fjord liked to think he did well indoors, but it sometimes made the world seem—narrow, sometimes made his vision tunnel, made it hard to breathe. Easier to feel trapped, easier to get upset. He was still frustrated—but out here there was more room to spread it out. They were very small. There were many things happening that were not them, waves rocking against stone, the spreading smear of a cloud on the horizon, a stand of plovers pretending to nest on the shoreline. _So they’re also very good liars,_ Caleb told him once, and Fjord hadn’t really given a shit about the wildlife before then, when he learned he wanted to hear what Caleb said about all of it.

So he did feel better, just a little.

“You’re a very strong-willed person,” Caleb said. His voice carried just slightly above the sound of the water. “You’ve proved it time and time again. I know that you won’t get pulled into their machinations, I know that you’ll take what you need from them and not give too much of yourself away. I also think—that you’re good for them. You’ll be able to guide them in better directions than they have been. The world is a better place with you in it, Fjord. I’m very reassured that I can count on the world always having you.”

“Caleb—” Caleb held up a finger, so he fell silent.

“I know that not telling you I was planning to refuse upset you. I want you to understand, it’s only because I didn’t want to influence your decision. I think you made the right one.”

Fjord didn’t quite know what to say. _You should have told me anyway, you should know you matter more than_ —but that wouldn’t help. It had been done already, it wouldn’t solve the current problem. Maybe later. He kicked at the water, sent a splash up Caleb’s shin. “ _Why_ did you refuse?” he asked.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Do you think I won’t understand?”

“No, I mean—it’s hard to explain.”

He waited for Caleb to gather his thoughts, spent the time trying to peer into the waves to see if there were any fish swimming nearby. But he could see nothing past the shine of the sun on the surface, glistening like coruscating glass.

“I think you’ve thought about what it would be like for you to die now, Fjord,” Caleb said eventually. “You would be reborn an infant, into a family.”

Fjord had thought about it, and the thought had been—thrilling. A fresh start, the chance at having a childhood that was completely different from his first, a childhood where maybe he had parents after all.

“When you’re a teen, you will be gathered up again and taken away, to rejoin the den. You belong to them now, more than anyone else.”

“Not true,” Fjord said, and realized that, too, might not be helpful. _I belong to you._ “Go on.”

“Then you’ll die a second time, and it will happen again. You’ll be reborn an infant in another family, and you’ll be separated from them when you reach your teens, again. Fjord—what if you loved the first parents you had?”

“I—don’t know. I wouldn’t remember it until after the meditation, right? I think I’d want to go back and visit them, if they were still alive. I think some of them do that, keep in touch.”

Caleb nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad you would. Fjord…I had parents once. I thought at one point I could do something to—and then I lost the ability to do that, forever.”

Fjord remembered that, remembered Beau and Nott’s stricken faces as he used the spell for them—as he fell weakened and boneless to the ground, as he lost it. He remembered what came after, too, Jester’s offer, and Caleb’s reluctant acceptance. The tears on her face as she explained, _the souls have to be willing, and free, and maybe they aren’t free Caleb, I think they’re probably in spirit jail and really they want to see you so much,_ and how Caleb was silent for weeks. Fjord had thought Caleb might let himself die, then. He thought if Caleb could be consecuted he wouldn’t have to worry about that any more.

“Do you want to see them, in the afterlife?” he asked.

Caleb shook his head. “It wouldn’t happen. I don’t worship who they worshipped, and, even if it were possible, I don’t think I…could. No. It isn’t that. It’s only that, they are **mine.** There isn’t much I can ever hope to do, to recompense for any of the things I have done. But I _can’t_ renounce them, I can’t live a life where I am anyone else’s child, where I might forget about them for any length of time.”

Fjord thought for a while, jerking back slightly as something cool pushed up against his foot—so there were fish in the water after all. He clapped his hands together, making Caleb startle slightly beside him. “Okay,” he said.

“You’ll leave it be?”

“Absolutely. We’ll find another way to make you immortal.”

“We’ll—what?”

Fjord grabbed his shoulders, pulled him into a kiss. “Another way to make you immortal. One that you don’t have any problems with. There has to be one out there.”

“Fjord—that’s—”

“I’m not crazy.” Fjord stood up. “I’ve seen a lot of crazy, I would know. And I’m not planning on living in the world without you, that clear?”

“Clear?” Caleb sounded mystified. Fjord laughed.

“So that’s what we have to do. Our next adventure. You’ll help me, won’t you?” He held out his hand.

Caleb stared at him, before the smallest of smiles broke over his face. He took Fjord’s hand. “I suppose I’ll have to.”

“That’s the spirit. I’m going to, hmm, pack my bags. Let the court know I’m taking a vacation _before_ I resume office, thanks. You have anything you need to cancel? I want you ready by morning.”

Caleb laughed.


End file.
